The Ownership Of A First Kiss
by hallowgirlfrommars
Summary: ""I-" Dean stares at him. "I what?" Cas's lips tremble for a moment and then the words burst out. "You stole my first kiss!" He promptly drops his head into his lap and lets it lie there, dragging his coat over his head." In which Dean is confused, Cas is furious and the ownership of first kisses is furiously debated. Destiel. Middle School AU.


**So, I hadn't written some Destiel in a while and I was missing it, so I wrote this little bit of middle school AU. Because Dean and Cas would be adorable BFFS. :)**

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Dean knows it's going to be a long explanation when he pulls up the blinds to see Cas standing on the porch roof, arms folded, lips pursed, and blue eyes narrowed in a scowl that does not look like the face of someone who's popped by for a midnight feast.

Dean sighs, drags up his sash and scrambles out onto the roof. "OK, Cas. OK."

Cas says nothing-just jerks his head to the side with his lips pursed and heads for the edge of the roof without a word, lowering himself down the drainpipe without turning to see if Dean is following him. Dean sighs and wonders exactly what he has done to make Castiel Milton so annoyed he can't bear to knock on the front door.

Well, to be fair, that's not quite true. He knows what he's done-he just doesn't know why or how.

Castiel doesn't say anything as Dean drops down behind him-just waits with his arms folded until Dean reaches him. The neighbourhood is quiet around them, the dusk settling over the rows of houses and Dean keeps his eyes on the back of Cas's head as the streetlights flicker into life above them.

Dean would probably be a hell of a lot more surprised than he is but the fact is that after nearly six years of being best friends with Castiel Milton, he's seen a lot weirder than this. He's seen the way Cas stares reproachfully at anyone who crushes bees under textbooks and the way that he's so particular about that weird coat he always wears, tugging it around him protectively as if someone might try to take it off him. He's seen the way Cas stared at Sam, Dean's little brother who's probably fast asleep now, the first time he came over to Dean's house and how Cas had squinted at him, head tilted to one side, as if he was trying to figure out just what the definition of _toddler_ was.

Sam's nine now, and he knows how to handle Cas, Sam with his floppy blond hair and that smile that everyone loves, that their mother calls _winning_ and that Dean calls _girlie_. But Dean loves Sammy at the end of the day, and he loves the fact that whenever Cas doesn't understand something, some small quirk of other people that's confused him, it's Dean he turns to, and in return, he lets Dean look at his homework whenever algebra or conjunctives or irregular verbs are making as much sense to Dean as Lithuanian.

But now, catching up to Cas, watching the way his best friend's scowling through his hair at the ground, Dean wonders if Lithuanian or Cas's behaviour right now makes less sense.

"Cas-" he says, reaching out to touch his friend's shoulder and Cas shoots him a look of pure venom.

"OK." Dean steps back, holds his hands up. " Tough crowd" he mutters to himself and Cas shoots him another withering look.

"That doesn't even make sense" he snaps, and then purses his lips together, clearly annoyed with himself for letting the words slip out. Dean tries to suppress his grin and simultaneously tries not to notice how blue Cas's eyes are, especially when they're bright with fury, like right now.

"Look, Cas" he says, after they've walked a few more steps in scowling silence. "Are you going to tell me what this is about or are we just gonna keep walking all night?" If that's the case, Dean's about to make a request for a stop-in at the local 7-11-he could do with a slushie and besides, Cas always looks hilarious whenever he tries to drink one.

Cas gives him a look usually reserved for the people who crush bees. "I will explain" he says, that voice gruffer than ever-seriously, Dean knows it's totally normal for guys their age to be hitting puberty and all that stuff, but he doesn't think most guys go from sounding fairly normal to sounding like their words are being dragged over tree bark. "When we reach the playground."

Dean manages to bite back the smirk at the words and Cas sniffs and speeds up, leaving Dean to hurry after him. Dean wonders if Cas knows just how much Dean likes it when he's this mad-then decides he can't, otherwise there's no way he'd make Dean this happy.

Dean follows Cas down the block. It's not as though he enjoys Cas being angry. But Cas has been pissed at him plenty of times before and as long as he doesn't know why right now, he might as well enjoy what he can.

Then again, it's not as though he's _completely_ unclear.

He waits until they reach the playground, the place where he first met Cas six years ago, where Dean, flushed and sweaty from a baseball game, had dropped down onto a swing to stare at the kid in the trench coat watching him with the wide blue eyes and said _I'm Dean. What's your name?_

Cas heads for the jungle gym, scrambling up with that coat flapping around him and Dean finds himself watching him with a smile, the same smile Cas can always tug out of him, often without even realising. He watches Cas, the way that Cas pulls himself onto the top and gathers his coat carefully around him, the same way he lays his pencils out so carefully by size order only to completely forget that when he's seized by an idea, scribbling away in his schoolbooks so fast, that Dean catches himself watching him, taking in the darkness of Cas's hair and the flush of his lips, with Cas lost in his own world.

Dean shakes his head but he knows all too well that these thoughts _definitely_ aren't just friendly thoughts or just _Cas_ thoughts, as he's been trying to tell himself for the past however many months.

He drags himself up the jungle gym after Cas and takes a seat next to him, shooting another glance at Cas who's got his arms wrapped round his knees and is still scowling. Dean fights the urge to reach out and trace his finger under Cas's lips.

They've got the park to themselves, but even now, Dean feels that trace of defiance that jabs at him to remind himself that they're not playing, they're thirteen, not kids anymore-and he watches as Cas opens his mouth, then closes it again.

Dean reaches out to tug at his sleeve. "Cas-"

Cas drags his hand away and Dean stares at him. "Jeez, Cas-"

Cas shakes his head and Dean lets his shoe hit the jungle gym once, hard. "OK, Cas" he says, his voice louder now. "You might as well get to the point because I don't know why the hell you've dragged me out here."

Cas shoots him a disbelieving look and Dean raises his hands. "I don't. But if you're just going to screw around and not say anything, then I'm-" Dean makes as if to slide off the jungle gym, dropping straight down and Cas's hand lands on his arm. Dean holds back the smirk that threatens to play at his lips.

Cas lets him go, then turns away, and Dean slides back up and fixes his eyes on his best friend. "Come on, Cas" he says, his voice softer now. "What's wrong?"

"What's _wrong?"_

Dean instantly regrets asking.

Cas has turned to face him, blue eyes blazing. "What's _wrong?"_ he says and his voice is so low it sounds like a growl and Dean's reminded that Cas is a lot tougher than he looks. "I'm surprised you don't know what's _wrong_ , Dean."

Dean swallows. "OK. Look, I think I-" He rakes his hand through his hair. "I know I probably screwed up earlier-"

The noise that Cas makes is somewhere between a shriek and a growl and Dean almost jumps out of his skin. "Cas-" he says and he feels his hands fly up, as he wonders if Cas has actually gone mad and if so, whether that is technically _his_ fault-

Cas whirls round to face him, his eyes huge. "You-you-"

"I-" Dean stares at him. "I what?"

Cas's lips tremble for a moment and then the words burst out. " _You stole my first kiss!"_

He promptly drops his head into his lap and lets it lie there, dragging his coat over his head.

Dean Winchester likes to pride himself on always having something to say but right now, staring at Cas, hiding under his coat like a very annoyed hamster, his mouth opens and all he can think of to say is "Huh?"

Cas doesn't raise his head. Dean reaches out to grab his shoulder. "Cas. Cas, is this-I-"

Cas just wraps his arms tighter around his head. Dean swallows. "I-um-didn't mean-"

Cas raises his head to shoot Dean another glare. Dean sighs. "OK-I _did_ mean-I-"

He opens and closes his mouth helplessly as he feels the blood rise to his cheeks and it's his turn to look down.

Because, OK, he did mean to do it. He did mean it. He just...didn't mean it to go like _this._

Because while he might have thought about kissing Cas for ages, right before he did it, he wasn't thinking at all. Which might have been the problem.

They'd been sitting on the roof of the jungle gym, with their legs tangled together. Like they always did. And they'd been talking. Like they always did. Cas had been explaining his biology project in minute detail, explaining _The idea of dissection, Dean, it's barbaric_ and Dean had been nodding along, listening, but just watching Cas, too, feeling that grin tug at his lips, the one that always seemed to be there whenever Cas was around. He'd been watching Cas fuss over the state of the frogs and how he'd got into trouble for letting one go free out the window.

"And then Raphael said I should have just got on with the exercise and I told him that it was important to stand up for principles" Cas had said and there'd been a strange warmth in Dean's chest as he looked at Cas, who was threading his fingers together as he fretted over the unfairness of life for frogs and he'd found his heart beating faster against his chest. He'd thought about kissing Cas, before, abstractly-just what it would be like, whether it would be like the movies they sneaked peeks at on TV, whether Cas's lips would be soft-once or twice, he'd stared at Cas's hand, daring himself to take hold of it, just for a moment, just to see what would happen-but he'd always thought about it for that second too long, that second too long to actually _do_ it.

Maybe that was the reason he'd done it, this time-that he hadn't been thinking. At least, not about kissing. Just about Cas and how much he worried about the frogs and the way he always put a dollar in the school charity box each week, even when everyone else screwed around and shoved in some folded-up note that would pass until the box got to the office and the way Cas stopped to help Sammy's friend Sarah when she fell over and cut her knee, and spent his pocket money on buying her a slushie-

And then Cas had looked at him and said, with that furrow of the brow, "What is it, Dean?"

And Dean had stared at Cas for a moment, those crumpled eyebrows and that dark hair and those big blue eyes, and then he'd had his head tilted to the side and was pushing his mouth against Cas's. Cas had made a shocked, frantic sound in the back of his throat and their noses had been squashing each other and Cas's lips had moved timidly against his for a minute and both their mouths had been open and-

Dean had pulled back, and Cas had stared at him. "You-"

Dean had swallowed, his heart pounding against his ribs, as it slowly dawned on him that he'd just kissed Cas.

He'd _just kissed Cas._

"Cas-"

"You-" Cas had stared at him, one hand touching his lips, those blue eyes impossibly wide. "I-"

And then he'd dropped down from the jungle gym and started to run.

"Cas!" Dean had yelled after him but Cas had kept running, that trenchcoat billowing behind him and Dean had just sat still and let him go, staring after him and cursing himself for being so freaking stupid.

He'd called Cas three times when he got in and each time, the phone had rung itself into silence. All he could picture was Cas telling his extremely large family not to touch the phone that evening because Dean had committed a Crime Against Friendship and they were no longer speaking.

And then Cas had turned up at his window and had brought them here where he is now hiding his face in his coat and refusing to look at Dean.

Dean takes a deep breath. "Cas-" He hears his voice waver in the air and Cas keeps his head buried in his arms. "Cas-listen-that was your first-that was your first kiss?"

Really, Winchester? _Really?_

Cas doesn't raise his head but he nods once, arms tight around his head. Dean swallows. "Oh. Well. Wow. Mine too, actually."

There's a long moment of silence and then Cas raises his head. "That was your first kiss?" He sounds hesitant, almost as if Dean might be lying.

Dean swallows. "Well. Um. Yeah, actually."

Cas doesn't say anything but he stares at Dean over his arms with those big blue eyes. Dean swallows again. "Look. Um-" For a moment, he wishes that Sammy was here-even at nine, he's better at talking about this sort of thing than Dean will ever be-but then he imagines ever telling Sammy about this and shakes his head.

"Look. Cas. I just-I didn't, um-I mean-" He drags his hands through his hair. "Freaking hell" he mutters and Cas's lips twitch as if he might smirk for a moment. "I didn't mean it to happen like that, OK? And-if you don't want to-if you don't want to kiss me, that's fine, I just-wasn't thinking. OK?"

Cas is watching him but in the growing darkness, Dean can't tell what his friend's thinking. He pushes on with the words anyway.

"I mean-I didn't-I just-wasn't thinking, OK? And if you-" The words make a lump swell in his throat but he pushes through it. "If you don't want to hang out anymore-or whatever-that's um-that's totally fine. And if you don't want to-you know-if you want to hang out and not-" He clears his throat. "Kiss or whatever-that's fine, too. You know, I just-we can forget about it if you want. I mean-if that _is-"_

He trails off, feeling like his face is on fire and stares at the ground. This is the worst he's felt since the time he tried cleaning Uncle Bobby's car with paint stripper.

Cas is staring at him-he can feel that gaze on him, even with his eyes on his knees. "So-you think- _that's_ why I'm angry?"

Dean frowns and slowly raises his eyes to Cas's. "Isn't it?"

Cas swallows, takes in a shaky breath. "Dean, I-" He doesn't meet Dean's eyes as he says the words. "I'm not mad because I didn't want to kiss you."

Dean feels his heart rate pick up, feels the beginnings of a smile bloom on his face. "Really?"

Cas glances at him. "No. I'm mad because-" He wraps his arms around his knees again.

"Because?" Dean prompts, reckless now, reckless with relief that Cas might still like him, and might, possibly, one day, want to kiss him again-

"Because-" And Cas's head flies back up. "Because that was my first kiss!" he snaps. "And I didn't know what to do-or _anything-_ and it was meant to be special and important and I-I didn't have any idea what to _do_ , I-I messed it up-"

"Whoa." Dean's hand falls onto Cas's arm and this time, Cas lets it stay there. "Whoa. Cas. You didn't mess it up, OK? If anything, _I_ did, I rushed you into it-"

"That never seems to be a problem for anyone else." The anger has drained from Cas's voice now and he just sounds thoroughly miserable. "How come I couldn't-I mean, I wanted it to be special for both of us-"

"Both of us?" and Dean's voice is far softer than usual."You mean-you-um-you thought about-"

He might not be able to see Cas that clearly but he'd have to be blind not to tell that he's blushing. "I-" Cas tugs at his collar. "I wanted it to be-if it was with you-if that was what-what you-wanted-"

"It was" Dean assures him, because right now that's the most important thing to let Cas know.

"I wanted-I wanted it to be special." The words burst out of Cas's mouth and he wraps himself up tighter. "I wanted it to be- _right_ for both of us and instead, I've just-"

He trails off and Dean stares at him. "Um-Cas" he says, once it becomes apparent Cas isn't going to speak anymore. "I-um-I know we didn't get it right, OK? But-um-maybe it doesn't matter that much."

Cas slowly raises his head to look at him and Dean hastily backtracks. "I mean-not like the _kiss_ didn't matter or anything. It did-it was-you know-nice-" His words trail away to a mumble and he has to clear his throat. "But I mean-you know. We hadn't done it before. It doesn't matter that it wasn't, you know, perfect. I mean-" Dean rakes his hand through his hair. "What I'm trying to say is-if you want to do it again, that's fine. But if not-then even if it wasn't great, I mean-at least we- _wanted_ to kiss each other?"

He eyes Cas warily, waiting for some return of that glare, but Cas appears to be thinking it over. After a moment, his lips twitch in what, in the darkness, could be a small smile.

"I mean, it's up to you" Dean manages quickly, tearing his gaze away from Cas's. "If you want to forget it ever happened, we can-I mean, we can still just be-you know, us-we don't have to-"

He's caught off by Cas's hair brushing against his nose as his friend bends his head and leans in. His lips are warm and soft against Dean's and this time, they've both got a better idea of what they're doing. It's still not perfect but it lasts a little longer and Dean manages to avoid hitting Cas's nose and they both dissolve into laughter against each other's mouths as they break away.

"Any better?" Dean asks , once he's got his breath back, and Cas grins, the first real smile he's given Dean since that afternoon. "Moderately."

Dean laughs again. He can't help it because it's Cas, and of course Cas would describe it as _moderately._ It's just _...Cas._

"Do you-" Dean tugs at the lace of his sneakers. "I mean, we don't have to do it again if you don't want to."

Cas's brow furrows. "Do you not want-"

"No, no, I mean-I want to, I do, but-you know. It's up to you." Dean drags the toe of his sneaker against the side of the jungle gym. "I don't want to make you do anything you don't feel-you know-happy with. Or whatever." Dean keeps his eyes on his knees but he doesn't need to look at Cas to know his best friend is considering the offer.

"I think" says Cas, with slow deliberation. "I would like to try kissing more."

Dean glances up at him, and feels that smile spread across his face now. "Yeah?"

Cas nods back at him, with his own smile. "Yes, Dean."

Dean tilts his head and gives him a quick kiss. This time, it's briefer and more awkward but Cas smiles when he pulls back. Dean takes a deep breath, his heart pounding and then slowly lets his fingers curl around Cas's.

Cas swallows, and Dean watches the movement of his throat as he takes Dean's hand slowly. Dean lets his thumb trace Cas's palm and wraps their fingers together clumsily.

"Sorry, I-"

Cas shakes his head. "It's fine, Dean."

Dean thinks about kissing him again but settles for holding his hand tighter. This, he knows how to do.

Besides, taking in Cas's smile and feeling the way Cas is squeezing his hand back, he figures they'll be able to figure this kissing thing out one day. They've got plenty of time to practice, after all.

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 **I've totally got Thirteen by Big Star playing in my head now. :) Leave a comment if you liked it! :)**


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